Sunday, 12 April 2015
Hot and cold
I didn't get the level of clothes right at all this weekend. At yesterday morning's football I froze in a thin coat, lulled into a false sense of security by last week's summer temperatures. I had no thick coat, no scarf, no gloves, no flask of hot cocoa - all of my things to keep me warm. The pitch was incredibly exposed, the wind was fierce, the game was mediocre - nothing to warm me up there. Sometimes a lively game, with how shall I put it, vocal opposing crowd, can warm a person right through. I took the smaller brothers too. They disappeared from sight at one stage which did raise my pulse rate slightly. I found them up a tree. Of course.
Today we went for a walk up and down the valley near Nailsworth. It's a steep sided valley, with houses tucked tightly into its slopes and vertiginous terraced gardens. The path meandered between the houses. As you walked past one front door you were simultaneously level with bedroom windows and roofs of the cottages below. I loved it, but I imagine it can be dark and damp in the winter. Little flat areas of outside space were cleverly made the most of. A greenhouse slotted in here, a wrought iron table and a couple of chairs fitted in there. I wore my thick coat with the fur lining, a scarf, a jumper, I had gloves in my pocket, an umbrella in my bag and a big flask of steaming cocoa. My, it was hot.
This is the joy of an English spring though isn't it. You never know exactly what to expect. Glorious days interspersed with biting winds and driving rain. Blossom against a deep blue sky, or clinging to a branch as the storm rips at petals.
It's back to school tomorrow for the children. I have an idea to be more organised about things. I need to make more hours in my day. Maybe I should plan meals in advance. Make a note of the things to be done on each day. I finally took the plunge and got the writing course I was talking about - in February. It's sat on the shelf and I've hardly looked at it. I hate the fact that I haven't made time for it. I'm not that sort of person really. But I always seem to have other things to do. Prevaricating? I don't know. The bullet needs to be bitten. Tomorrow. Or maybe Tuesday, tomorrow I need to restore order to the post-holiday house.